


Hello, I Love You (Won’t You Tell Me Your Name)

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because I Might be a Pervert, But You're All Enabling Me, F/M, M/M, Married Dorks in Love, Multi, Nobody Deserves Rufus, Polyamory, The Softest of Messes, This Turned Out Far Softer Than I Expected, Wyatt Logan Isn't a Total Idiot for Once, first time threesome, now with smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 13:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: When the Time Team suffers an unexpected side effect on their latest mission, Lucy and Flynn find they have to woo their husband all over again. Which probably wouldn’t be too bad if they weren’t also stranded in the middle of the woods. In the beginning of the 19th Century.And if Rufus wasn’t stuck there with them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is taken from this prompt here:
> 
> http://extasiswings.tumblr.com/post/174120020971/garcyatt-39-survivalwilderness-fic-57
> 
> extasiswings generously said anyone who wanted to write the prompt could, so here we are!

Lucy always hated when one of them had to be left behind.

Wyatt was helping Denise with a 2018 mission while she, Flynn, Rufus and Mason went on a mission of their own. Intellectually, she knew that she was risking herself just as much as Wyatt was risking himself, and it wasn’t as though she wasn’t worried about Flynn, either, but it was just… different when it was herself, or when one of them was right there with her. When one of them was far away—she knew that Flynn standing next to her wouldn’t stop a bullet from hitting him. But it felt like it could.

Stupid, she knew. And yet.

Flynn and Mason were laughing as they got back. “Christopher,” Mason declared as they descended the steps, “I swear—”

Mason paused, which made Flynn bump into him, which meant Lucy couldn’t see what was going on because, well, Flynn was six foot four.

“I’m sorry,” Mason said, in the impeccably polite tone of a British person when what they really mean is _fuck you and your mother_ , “but who are you?”

Lucy tapped Flynn on the shoulder and he twisted so that she could see.

Standing at the foot of the steps, apparently having wheeled them up to them, was…

“Dave?” Lucy blurted out.

Rufus popped out of the Lifeboat. “Bam Bam?”

“Who the fuck is Bam Bam?” Flynn asked.

“Uh, that’s an old nickname of mine,” Dave Baumgardner said. He looked the same way that Lucy remembered, with an affable, harmless sort of air about him. The kind of guy who looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. “How’d you guys even learn that? I’m pretty damn sure I didn’t tell it to you.”

“Wyatt told us,” Rufus said. “And, no offense, but how are you here?”

“Wyatt? Wyatt Logan?” Dave now looked as confused as the rest of them. “Where the hell did you meet Wyatt Logan?”

Lucy’s heart skipped a beat and her stomach twisted viciously. Oh, no.

Flynn shoved past Mason and Dave. “Wyatt!” he yelled.

“Um, who’s Wyatt Logan?” Denise asked.

“I’m running a search,” Jiya said.

“I can tell you who he is,” Flynn snarled. “He’s our husband, where the fuck is he?”

Lucy gripped the rail to steady herself.

“…you have… wait, did you say ‘our’?” Jiya asked.

Flynn gestured between himself and Lucy.

Jiya widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows. “Is it rude of me to claim vindication? Because I knew you weren’t straight. I said that, right Rufus?”

“Um?” Rufus’s gaze darted from Flynn, to Dave, to Lucy, back to Jiya. “Could we maybe talk about that later?” He gestured at Dave. “Because, ah, you died.”

Dave looked down at himself as if to indicate that this was news to him. “I did?”

“Yeah, Paris, Jazz Age, Lost Generation? One of Flynn’s goons shot you?”

“Oh yeah,” Flynn said, pausing. “Ah. Sorry about that. It was nothing personal.”

Lucy struggled to breathe. It was clear that Wyatt wasn’t here, wasn’t in the bunker, that Denise and Jiya didn’t even know him, and if so… oh, God, was he dead? Still married to an alive and well Jess?

Were she and Flynn going to have to lose someone they loved all over again?

“Let me get this straight,” Denise said, walking over and gesturing at Dave. “You four don’t know him.”

“We know him,” Rufus said. “He’s just dead in our timeline.”

“All right. So he went on missions with you and died, and then this… Wyatt Logan replaced him?”

“Logan’s in Delta Force,” Jiya announced. “Or, he was. Got put on leave for his mental health a year ago. I can get into his therapist’s files if you want. No family, one spouse, deceased.”

Lucy locked eyes with Flynn. If Wyatt wasn’t on the time team and didn’t meet them, then there was no reason for Rittenhouse to bring Jess to life, no reason for Wyatt to face his issues with her and get over her, no way for him to confront and control his demons…

She could see the same conviction in Flynn’s eyes that she felt in her heart. They couldn’t leave Wyatt in that pit. Couldn’t let him be trapped in that cycle of self-loathing and destructive behavior.

“He didn’t replace Bam Bam,” Rufus explained, clearly the patient one. “Wyatt was brought in from day one. He, uh, wasn’t in the best headspace after his wife was murdered. Jess. So when he was told this was probably a suicide mission he jumped on it. At one point he—ah, he wasn’t available, so Bam Bam came in and subbed for him. Got shot on the mission. Then Rittenhouse upped the ante, shit got crazy, and Wyatt and the rest of us went underground here.”

“That’s not how it was for us,” Denise replied. “Baumgardner here was brought on from the beginning. He’s been with us the whole way.”

Flynn swore viciously in Croatian, swiping at the air and turning away. Lucy slid past Mason and crossed over to him, grabbing his hand. “Garcia.”

“Wait,” Dave said, looking perplexedly over at Lucy and Flynn. “Um, seriously? He’s seriously your husband?”

“You got a problem with that?” Flynn growled, turning back around.

Lucy yanked on his hand. “Don’t,” she whispered. Fighting wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

“No, no, I just—” Dave shrugged. “I helped you propose to Lucy, man, it’s gonna take me a minute to adjust to you having another spouse I didn’t know about.”

“Okay but seriously,” Jiya added, “Somebody owes me twenty bucks, I called it, I so called it with Flynn.”

“If I’m understanding this correctly,” Mason said slowly, his hands gently patting the air like he was hoping to physically deflate the situation, “Lucy and Flynn here have just been informed that their spouse was not recruited to the team, and therefore never met them, and therefore not only does not love them but doesn’t know of their existence.”

“He’s in Delta,” Jiya said. “And Flynn’s still a terrorist so, Wyatt probably knows about his existence.”

Flynn closed his eyes, looking like he was reminding himself that he loved Jiya very much and was not going to strangle her.

“My point,” Mason continued, still in that careful, slow tone, “is that it sounds like nothing else in the timeline was destabilized. We stopped Rittenhouse for the day, Dave here is alive and well and isn’t that dandy, so why don’t Rufus and I give Denise the rundown while Lucy and Flynn, ah, have a moment?”

Lucy could feel the pressure building up in her chest and behind her eyes, each passing second bringing her closer to a breakdown. She nodded, gripping Flynn’s hand as tightly as she could—although whether it was for herself or for him, she didn’t know anymore.

Denise gave a small sigh. “All right. For what it’s worth…” She looked over at Lucy. “I am sorry.”

“Can’t you—can’t you do something?” Lucy asked, hating how her voice cracked.

Denise shook her head, although to her credit she at least looked reluctant about it. “If this Wyatt knew you, then I might consider it. We could use another soldier. But I can’t authorize bringing someone who doesn’t know any of us—”

“He knows me,” Dave pointed out.

The stare that Denise gave him was withering. “He doesn’t know you. I can’t allow you to bring someone into this when they might not even…”

She stopped, as if realizing what she was about to say wasn’t the most sensitive comment.

“When he might not even come to love us,” Flynn spat.

He pulled away, Lucy’s grip on him slipping, and he stormed out of the room.

Lucy closed her eyes. Swallowed. Counted to ten.

Opened her eyes again.

“I’ll—we’ll be in our room,” she said. “That is, I assume we still share a room.”

“You two are married for us,” Denise replied, sounding weary. “So yes.”

Lucy nodded, and then hurried after her husband.

 

* * *

 

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to rail, to break something, anything, just to watch it smash and have the broken pieces match how he was feeling inside.

Another person lost, another person gone, only this time it was almost worse because Lorena and Iris would be here if they could, they still loved him, somewhere, he believed that, he did, but Wyatt didn’t, Wyatt was out there and alone and hurting and yet he might as well have been dead for all the good that did Flynn or Lucy—

He heard Lucy close the bedroom door behind her. “Garcia. _Mon amour_. Breathe.”

Flynn didn’t know when Lucy had fallen into the habit of using French endearments with him, the way he used Croatian with her and Wyatt, but he liked it. It felt like something private, something special, just for them.

She crossed over to him, sliding her hands up his chest. He saw the tears standing in her eyes and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in. “ _Draga_. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Lucy pressed her face into his chest, her hands shifting, turning into fists that clenched viciously at his shirt. He could feel the fabric getting warm and wet, and he rubbed her back soothingly.

“He’s all alone,” she whispered. “He’s all alone, and hurting, and angry, and—and spiraling, and he’ll have no one, Garcia, he’ll have no one. You remember how he was.”

Flynn’s heart clenched. “We can’t just go out and get him.”

“Who says we can’t?” Lucy replied viciously, pulling back to look Flynn in the face. “You said that we could get back the people we love. Wyatt’s out there and he needs us whether he knows it or not. I’m not losing another person, Garcia, I’m not doing this.”

“Lucy. Lucy…” He breathed out carefully, trying not to give into his frustration. “You know I want—I love him, but we can’t just go to him and demand that he love us back.”

“He told us,” Lucy said stubbornly, “he told us that we made him a better person, a happier person. This isn’t about us, this is about helping him.”

Flynn could remember that conversation with aching, vivid detail. The way Wyatt had spoken haltingly, tentatively. The soft, almost goofy smile he’d given them, his eyes shining and adoring. The way his hands had twisted around each other restlessly as he’d talked.

“I won’t leave him to flounder in that dark place,” Lucy whispered. “And I know you can’t let that happen either.”

“I also can’t…” Flynn gently pulled away, taking her hands. “I can’t. Watch. I can’t be… I can’t have the man I love right in front of me and not… I can’t do that.”

“Garcia.” The corner of Lucy’s mouth flickered upward, a spark of mischief there and gone in a flash. “We can’t demand that he love us back. But that doesn’t mean we can’t get him to fall in love with us all over again. We did it once. I mean we fumbled a lot along the way but we got there. We can do it again.”

Flynn tried to stamp down on the soft butterfly of hope in his chest. “There’s just one problem.”

“Oh, just one?”

He curled a lock of her hair around his finger, causing Lucy to turn her face and softly kiss his knuckles. “We can’t get out of the bunker without Denise on our tails.”

Lucy looked up at him, raising one eyebrow. Flynn knew that look and loved it dearly. It was the _I’m Lucy goddamn Preston and I already have a plan_ look. “There’s one way we can.”

 

* * *

 

Convincing Rufus took a little bit of work.

“Do you need me to remind you what happened the last time I let one of you convince me to take the Lifeboat out for an illegal spin?” he said. “It all went to shit.”

“That was Wyatt,” Flynn said, probably going for soothing but mostly just sounding cavalier.

“An innocent guy ended up dead and I was nearly court martialed. Wyatt _was_ court martialed. Or going to be. I actually don’t remember.”

“All we have to do is talk to him,” Lucy said. Just ten, fifteen minutes with Wyatt and she knew they could convince him. “Please, Rufus, we have to try.”

Rufus sighed, looking over at Flynn, and then back at Lucy, then glancing over his shoulder at the Lifeboat. “What if Rittenhouse jumps?”

“We’ll do it after a jump. We’ll make sure it’s just the three of us on the mission.”

Rufus shifted uneasily on the couch. “Denise is going to be pissed when she finds out.”

“I can handle Christopher,” Flynn said, his tone rough and unyielding.

History had shown them once already that it was unwise to get between Flynn and the people he loved. Lucy leaned against his side, kissing his shoulder. They were all family here. Sometimes that meant issues and arguments, as all families had, but it also meant love and support. They’d work this out with Denise, and it would all be fine.

She was even… God forbid, but if it came to it, she was going to find a way to be all right with Wyatt walking away from them. But not until she’d actually fought for him. Not until she’d told him what they were to each other, how much happier they all were together, what a better person he had become. She would fight to save him from himself. She was done letting the people she loved—her mother, for one—be destructive because Lucy hadn’t been able to stand up to them enough.

The Wyatt she knew, the one she loved, who had grown to be a soft and kind and thoughtful person, who loved her and Flynn with all of his heart—he would want her to fight for him.

And damn it, that was exactly what she was going to do. Because that Wyatt was in this Wyatt somewhere, just waiting for the chance to be free.

She knew that, without a single shred of doubt.

 

* * *

 

Flynn helped Lucy to buckle up in the Lifeboat, and then did his own seatbelt. “You sure about this?” Rufus asked as he set the coordinates.

Jiya was in on it. She had to be—she was the one who’d gotten them Wyatt’s information, where he was and all that, and she was the one who’d stealthily disabled the Lifeboat alert so that Denise and Mason wouldn’t see the Lifeboat making a second, unauthorized jump before coming home.

Unsurprisingly, she’d needed more persuading to get behind this. Jiya was generally more willing to break the rules than Rufus was, but she didn’t know Wyatt. Rufus did, and Flynn knew that while he’d lost a husband, Rufus had lost his friend, and that was no less important than Flynn’s own feelings.

“We’re sure,” Flynn told him.

Rufus nodded, grabbing the thrusters. “Okay. One extra illegal time jump, coming up. All in the name of mawiage and twuu wuv.”

Flynn rolled his eyes, then jolted as the Lifeboat launched.

…he really missed the Mothership. Smooth ride, you barely even knew you were jumping. None of this wondering if your stomach was going to end up on the outside of your body nonsense.

Thank God they’d finally come up with a stronger fuel source for the Lifeboat, or they’d never be able to make this jump. The Lifeboat could now make five jumps without needing to recharge, which wasn’t the same as having a nuclear power cell (thanks Denise) but it was a hell of a lot better than what they’d been working with.

They landed in San Diego, California.

Flynn stepped out, hopping down and reaching out to lift Lucy to the ground. “Any idea where he’ll be?” Rufus asked, accepting Flynn’s hand to help balance as he jumped out after them.

“A bar,” Lucy said.

Rufus looked like he was thinking some combination of _I don’t know what I expected_ and _goddamn white people_.

“Which bar, is the question,” Flynn noted.

“Jiya did get us his home address,” Rufus added. “We could wait for him there.”

Flynn glanced over at Lucy. He didn’t like the idea of waiting around for Wyatt, not when he could be getting himself into trouble. And the possibility of Wyatt possibly bringing some random woman back to the apartment wasn’t out of the question, which would only make everything more awkward.

Lucy pressed her lips together, considering. “I don’t like the idea of just sitting around but… that would probably be best.” She glanced over at Flynn, her eyes dark and worried, and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was—they didn’t know how far down Wyatt had spiraled in this timeline, and this might get messy.

Wyatt’s apartment was sort of off the beaten path, one of those bachelor pads that didn’t have a kitchen. That didn’t surprise Flynn all that much. From what Wyatt had told him, he’d been in the same situation in 2016.

He couldn’t help but wonder what lines they were crossing here. Was it okay for them to be interceding in Wyatt’s life like this? Even if it was in the hope of helping Wyatt?

Lucy was determined, though, and he couldn’t let her do this alone. And he did see her point. Their Wyatt would want them to fight for him, to rescue him from himself.

They climbed up the steps to the third floor, where Wyatt’s apartment was. “I’ll just hang back,” Rufus said, leaning against the wall in the hallway. “And, uh, let you two do the whole eternal love schtick.”

Lucy knocked on the door. “He might not be home,” Flynn pointed out.

“It’s too early for him to be at a bar.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

Lucy knocked again. There was the sound of footsteps on the other side, fumbling, and then the door was opened.

Flynn’s heart skipped a beat.

Wyatt was wearing jeans and a dark gray t shirt, his hair all sticking up and mussed the way it got when he’d just rolled out of bed, weary dark marks under his eyes and that perpetual scuff on his jaw.

“Uh, can I help you?” he asked, voice a little scratchy. He’d definitely been asleep. Behind him the apartment was dark and bare, very little furniture, certainly nothing in the way of proper décor.

“Hi.” Lucy’s voice was soft. “Wyatt Logan, right?”

“Yes?” Wyatt’s gaze darted over to Flynn, probably noting the fact that Flynn was packing heat and looming rather impressively behind Lucy.

“I’m Lucy, Lucy Preston. This is my husband Garcia Flynn. We were hoping we could, ah, talk to you for a moment?”

“About what?” Wyatt asked, wary.

Flynn couldn’t blame the guy for being suspicious. It took everything in him not to reach out, to grasp Wyatt’s shoulder and make sure that he was actually real, that he was standing in front of them. He wanted so fucking badly to just blurt it all out, to say _we love you, we love you so much, please come home_ , but he knew that was a surefire way to get Wyatt to slam the door in their faces.

He heard Lucy take a deep breath. “The thing is—”

“Oh fuck!” Rufus yelled.

Flynn turned just as the bullets started flying.

“Jesus Christ!” Wyatt grabbed Lucy and yanked her behind him, his instinct to protect the civilian undoubtedly kicking in.

Flynn pulled out his guns, handing the extra to Wyatt. “Rufus, get behind us!”

“What the fuck is going on?” Wyatt demanded.

“Emma,” Lucy whispered. “She was on the jump, she’ll remember Wyatt, she’ll know what he means—”

“She knew we’d come for him,” Flynn growled. “All right, everyone to the Lifeboat, now!”

“I’m sorry, what?” Wyatt asked as Flynn grabbed him and yanked him out of his apartment. “Hold on, Christ, I don’t even have—”

“Save it we’ll get you another.” Passport, shoes, jacket, whatever. They’d have Denise come and collect his things.

“Where is she?” Rufus asked, yelping as Flynn fired back and Rufus all but dove behind him.

“Sniping,” Flynn replied, indicating the now-smashed window by the stairwell. “Wyatt, get us to the ground floor.”

“Wasn’t aware you were my commanding officer!” Wyatt shot back, but he was already putting his hand on Lucy’s shoulder to guide her ahead of him as he fired back in the direction of the shots, shouldering open the fire escape.

They tore out of the building, Wyatt’s battle instincts helping as they booked it for the Lifeboat. “Who the fuck are these people, who’s Emma, why are they shooting at us—” Wyatt scrambled to a stop as he saw the Lifeboat. “—and what the _fuck_ is that.”

“It’s a time machine,” Flynn said, lifting Lucy up into it. “Nifty, right? Get in.”

“If you think I’m getting in that fucking tin can—”

Flynn took a step forward, using his height to his advantage, letting a growl edge into his voice. “Get. In. The machine.”

Wyatt swallowed, his eyes getting a little wide and dark, and then he got into the Lifeboat.

Flynn tried not to think about how he knew Wyatt would listen to him, all the experiences that gave him the confidence to know that Wyatt was more submissive, that something in him craved order, craved being told what to do.

A bullet dinged off the side of the Lifeboat. _Fuck_.

“Garcia!” Lucy reached down, grabbing him and helping him in as Wyatt fired back at Emma. He got in and Wyatt yelled as he dodged, Rufus ducked, Flynn grabbed the door to close it—

One of the bullets hit the navigation system.

“Shit!” Rufus yelled as Flynn got the door closed. “Buckle up, this is gonna—”

The Lifeboat lurched. Wyatt scrambled for a seat, looking pale. Flynn yanked him up, shoved him into a seat, and then sat down in his own. “Hang on!” he warned.

Wyatt managed to get his arms in the straps, and then they were hurtling through space and time.

It was definitely one of their rougher rides. Flynn felt like his spine was in danger of flying out his mouth. The Lifeboat skidded to a halt like a banged-up car trying to go from 60 to zero, and Wyatt nearly fell out of his seat.

“What the fuck,” he said faintly.

“Rufus?” Flynn asked, putting a steadying hand on Wyatt’s shoulder.

“So, good news,” Rufus said. “We are away from Emma. Bad news. We are not at the bunker. Or. We are. But not, ah… we’re where the bunker will be.”

Flynn’s heart sank. “Rufus. What year is it.”

“According to the navigation system? 1810.”

Wyatt staggered to his feet, opened the door, and promptly vomited over the side of the Lifeboat. “Sorry,” he muttered afterwards.

“We were just in 1810,” Lucy said.

“I think that’s what happened, the fucking bullet hit the system so it got my coordinates right but reverted to the previous date.”

Flynn got out of his seat, bracing a hand on the side of the door to look outside over Wyatt’s head.

They were surrounded by nothing but trees. The Lifeboat had landed in a kind of natural clearing, which made sense then that later this would be the spot chosen for a building, but for now there was nothing for miles—at least as far as Flynn could see—but woods.

“You’re not going to like this,” he noted.

“At least three of us have the proper clothes for it,” Lucy said, pulling their early 19th century garb out from underneath her seat. “Rufus, do you think you’ll be able to fix this? Or should we find a town to get parts?”

“Not sure how we’ll get parts in 1810,” Rufus said, inspecting the navigation panel. “Let me assess the damage. Jiya and I started keeping some spare shit in here after Flynn stranded us—”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“—just in case it happened again so let’s hope what I’ve got will make do,” Rufus finished, ignoring Flynn.

“Rufus.” Lucy put her hand on his wrist. “I’m sorry. This is our fault, we dragged you into this.”

“It’s not your fault that Emma decided to be a psycho,” Rufus pointed out. “We didn’t know she’d be there.”

“We should’ve,” Flynn replied, itching to curl his hands into fists. “She was on the jump, we should’ve known that she would remember Wyatt.”

“Does someone want to explain to me what the fuck is happening?” Wyatt asked, managing to get to his feet.

Flynn looked at Lucy. She stood up, reached out slightly as if to touch Wyatt, soothe him, then paused, retracting her hand. “Wyatt, as I’m sure you’ve… figured out by now, time travel is real.”

“No shit,” Wyatt said faintly.

“We’re working together to stop a group called Rittenhouse from using this time travel to take over the world. Or, well…” Lucy sighed. “Take over more of it than they already have. A couple of years ago, we were brought together to stop them. In our timeline, you were brought in from Delta. But when Flynn and Rufus and I came back from a mission where you’d stayed behind—something had changed and Dave Baumgardner had been chosen instead of you. So for the past two years, he’s been working with us, not you.”

“Bam Bam?” Wyatt frowned. “He dropped off the radar about a year ago. We all wondered what happened to him.”

“And you got kicked out of Delta a year ago,” Flynn noted, unable to stop himself.

Wyatt glared at him. “What’s it to you? Why does it matter if it’s Dave and not me helping you? What makes me so important?”

Rufus coughed. “Maybe you’ll want to have this conversation outside the Lifeboat?”

Ah, right. Rufus probably didn’t need to hear all of this.

Flynn climbed out, then helped Lucy and Wyatt down. “We’ll have to figure out a way to get food and shelter until Rufus fixes this up,” Flynn noted.

“Can we maybe deal with that after I get some goddamn answers?” Wyatt demanded.

“I forgot what a fucking pain in the ass you were.”

“Well excuse me,” Wyatt said, getting in Flynn’s face, “for being a little suspicious when three people I’ve never met before sweep me off to 1810, in the middle of a fucking forest, and some redhead’s shooting at me—”

“And we were going to tell you, it’s not that easy, you idiot, does any version of you know patience?”

“Why did you have to come get me?” Wyatt asked. “I’m nobody. Dave’s as good a soldier as I am. Why me, what is so important that you have to disrupt my whole life—”

“You don’t have a life,” Flynn snarled. “You have, what, some dead end job or maybe you’re just living off the paycheck the army sends you to keep your mouth shut about the shit you did for them, Master Sergeant, and you go out and drink every night because you can’t forget Jess and how you failed her and you can’t forget the things your father said to you and you don’t have anything to cling to but you just keep moving through life anyway but you’re not fucking _living_ —”

“Stop it!” Lucy yelled.

She got in between them, shoving hard, making Wyatt stumble backwards. “Both of you.”

“You don’t know anything,” Wyatt said to Flynn, but it sounded weak. “And if you think I’m such a loser then why find me? Sounds like you’d be glad to get rid of me.”

“You’re not a loser,” Lucy said, her voice gentling like she didn’t want to spook him. “You’re just lost and in pain. But you got better. With us, you got better.”

Something about her tone must have struck Wyatt as oddly weighted, because his eyes narrowed and he glanced back and forth between her and Flynn. “What do you mean?”

Lucy reached back behind her and Flynn grasped her hand, squeezing, giving her his support.

“We came for you because we love you,” Lucy told him. “You’re our husband.”

 

* * *

 

Lucy wasn’t surprised that Wyatt’s eyes went right to Flynn when she said that. It was bad enough when a random woman showed up claiming to be your wife. But when a man came along saying he was your husband as well, and all the repressed sexuality that implied…

She had no doubt that Wyatt was still in the closet. Possibly still in denial. But she had to trust that he’d learn to embrace that part of himself again. She had to.

“I’m—I’m sorry?” Wyatt croaked. “Our?”

“Flynn’s and mine,” Lucy confirmed.

“Isn’t bigamy illegal?” Wyatt said weakly, trying for a joke and failing.

Flynn sighed. “Look, you and I didn’t really—mistakes were made, things were rough, and so I get why you’re not exactly… I can get why you’re not thrilled. But we felt—we knew you wouldn’t be happy and we wanted to—”

Lucy took Wyatt’s hands. Wyatt looked surprised but didn’t shy away from the touch. She couldn’t help but wonder when the last time someone touched him like this had been. “We couldn’t lose you,” she admitted. “Not without a fight.”

Wyatt stared at her for a long moment, and she began to hope, to believe—

Wyatt gently took his hands out of hers. “What if I don’t want this?” he asked. “What if I just want to go home?”

Lucy’s throat closed up and she turned to Flynn, trying not to let the dampness in her eyes overwhelm her.

Flynn squeezed her hand. “We’re stuck here for a while,” he said, his tone containing that playful hint of steel she loved so well. “How about we strike a deal? If by the time we get back to the present you don’t want to stay, then we’ll take you back home. But as long as we’re here, you let Lucy and I do our best to… persuade you that you’ll be happier with us.”

Wyatt looked equal parts terrified and determined. “Fine.”

Oh now this… this she could work with.

Lucy stepped in close, taking her time leaning in until she could oh so gently kiss Wyatt on the cheek. She could feel his face heating up and she rested just the very tips of her fingers against his chest.

“Sounds like a deal,” she whispered. Then she stepped back.

Wyatt looked thunderstruck, his eyes wide and his breathing a little shallow.

This might actually be fun.

 

* * *

 

Rufus did not need to be seeing this.

It was bad enough that Wyatt didn't remember Lucy and Flynn and probably had all the damn personal issues that came with not knowing them. Rufus loved the guy, he did, Wyatt was one of his best friends, but he'd been a piece of work to start out with. And then there'd been the whole Jess coming back thing and while this didn't look like it would be a problem this time around that didn't mean those issues weren't still there, needing to be dealt with.

But oh, God, what he really didn't need was Lucy and Flynn tracking Wyatt like he was a goddamn deer and they were wolves in hunting season. They were finding every single excuse to cozy up to Wyatt that they could and Rufus couldn't blame the guy for responding. If Jiya had been pulling those moves on him, looking at him like he was a fucking four course meal, Rufus would've been responding the same way.

He just didn't want to be the fourth wheel watching this ridiculous courtship play out.

The third night, Lucy and Flynn snuck out a little ways and had sex.

Loud sex.

Which was all fine and dandy for getting Wyatt hot and bothered but Rufus  _did not need to hear that_. Any of it. He'd covered his ears because Lucy had been kind enough to warn him ahead of time but that didn't change the fact that he knew exactly what was going on thirty feet away. And what was going on five feet away once Wyatt wised up to what was happening.

Fuckin' white people, honestly.

Rufus really hoped that Wyatt got his shit together and said  _yes please I'll let you bang me six ways to Sunday_ soon. The guy clearly wanted them to. He was practically drooling every time Lucy or Flynn (or both) got near him. The sooner Wyatt said 'yes please' the sooner they could all go home.

And Rufus really, really wanted to go home, to a place with walls. And private rooms.

Because again: he really did not need to be seeing. Or hearing. Or knowing about,  _any_ of this.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been… an awkward week.

Being stuck in the wilderness was the least awful part of it all, actually. In fact, being stuck in the wilderness was kind of Wyatt’s forte since he’d been trained for that, and it gave him something to distract himself with.

It was the rest of it that was awkward.

It was… a lot, to know that there were two people who were in love with him, in love with him enough to marry him, and to risk finding him again to try and help him. Especially when those people were way better than Wyatt deserved. How the hell had any version of him managed to land two people like that? Especially two people who were so goddamn in love with each other it was almost sickening. Rufus was rolling his eyes at Lucy and Flynn constantly but in a fond sort of way, like their casual, one hundred percent adoring affection was normal, and Wyatt—Wyatt hadn’t had that with anyone since Jess. And not even with her, towards the end when they’d been on the rocks.

It was like dangling a steak in front of a starving man, showing him this warm and loving affection, the way they touched each other, Flynn kissing Lucy’s temple and Lucy squeezing Flynn’s hand, and the way they looked at each other, like they were the only two people in the world. Wyatt wanted in on that. How could he not? How could anyone not want to be a part of that?

They balanced each other out well, and honestly, Wyatt felt greedy for wanting to intrude on it. The first few days, they didn’t press themselves on him. He waited for grand gestures or speeches, but instead Lucy and Flynn were just… themselves. Together. And Wyatt—Wyatt could see their intelligence, their humor, their joy in each other. Not to mention the sex. Holy shit. They did it one night a little ways away and Wyatt was fifty percent sure they'd been loud on purpose and holy mother of God. Yeah. Yeah, those two were not hurting in their sex life. Fucking hell. It made his chest feel huge and empty and cavernous, made him ache all over, made him crave.

He thought he’d just develop feelings for Lucy. That was the safe choice, after all, in his mind. Lucy was—well. She was a little easier because she was beautiful, and gentle, and funny, and smart, and sweet, and… and…

Okay, fine, she was a woman. Happy? She was gorgeous and flirting with him and brushing her fingers along his arm and taking his hand and basically making it very difficult for him to breathe or think.

But Flynn was.

Yeah.

Flynn in his goddamn tight jeans and his jacket, Flynn with his developing scruff and floppy hair, Flynn with his large dexterous hands as he helped Rufus with the Lifeboat, Flynn being over six feet and standing too close, just… _Flynn_.

Wyatt had done a good job with hiding his attraction to men over the years. He liked women, so he’d figured it was easy enough to ignore that tightening in his gut around certain army pals or when Hugh Jackman had been on screen.

But Flynn was relentless. Not as obvious as Lucy was with her touching and looking up at him through her lashes but he was a constant presence, and Wyatt couldn’t escape the fact that Flynn was right there, looking like a goddamn wet dream. Wyatt wanted Flynn to pin him to the nearest tree, bark be damned.

“It’s okay,” Lucy whispered the sixth night, as they sat together while Flynn and Rufus were discussing schematics. “To like men. You’ve never talked to anyone about it, have you?”

Wyatt glanced at her. “You know everything about me. Do you understand how weird that is?”

Lucy shrugged. “Once you trusted us enough to tell us all of this. I like to think that you’ll trust us enough again someday and will open up to us… and until then we’ll do our best to try to not use that knowledge against you.”

She reached out, gently running her fingers through his hair, and Wyatt found himself trembling slightly. He hadn’t been touched by anyone, really, in this way. A few one night stands since Jess’s death didn’t count—that was just basic, rough sex, feeling empty inside still, feeling like something was missing, feeling unsatisfied and not knowing why. It wasn’t this soft, intimate touch, meant to comfort and reassure and not just as a means to an end.

“You’ve had no problem with… using other things,” Wyatt murmured.

“Well.” Lucy gave him a small smile. “Trust takes time to build. But sex can be had right away.”

“Are you two really—how can you be okay? With another person?” If Jess had so much as looked at another man… well. Since her death he’d been able to come to terms with his destructive jealousy. He’d had to. It was the reason she’d died.

“We communicate,” Lucy replied, letting her hand drop away. “And we don’t just… find people we think are hot and fuck them. We talked about it and decided that we were developing feelings for you, and that we wanted to have your in our lives as a partner, just as we were to each other.”

“…how did that happen?” Wyatt couldn’t help himself. He was wildly curious.

Lucy laughed softly. “Well…”

She moved closer. They’d built a roaring fire, and in the late afternoon light the dancing flames illuminated her face, made her seem like something more than human, like a goddess. It made Wyatt’s breath catch in his throat.

“You had a lot to work through at first. Jess, and your behavior with her, and your feelings. Trying to get over her. You and I… you weren’t in the best place, you didn’t listen to me, didn’t… didn’t give me space when I asked for it, didn’t respect me. So we got distant. And then over time you got… better. You apologized, and started listening to me. You and Flynn started to become friends, you started to follow his orders, you fought for him when Denise wasn’t giving him the consideration he deserved.

“And we realized that we… that we wanted you. Not just as a friend. We loved you, were in love with you, and at first—at first we definitely panicked. I didn’t want Flynn to think I loved him any less and he worried about the same thing. But we talked and came to an understanding and decided to see if we could find out if you were interested. You’d done… well, I knew you still had feelings for me. You’d said somethings that gave us hope you had feelings for Flynn. So we thought, why not?

“We’d been dropping hints,” Lucy said, trailing her finger slowly down his arm. “But you weren’t really getting them. So when you were on the couch one night… we asked if we could join you for a movie night.

“You said yes and we sat on either side of you… and as the movie went on we just got more touchy. I ended up in your lap and Flynn had his arm around your shoulders. And we were all half asleep and then at the end of the movie Flynn leaned in to kiss you—and you pulled away.” Lucy’s eyes grew dark and sad. “It turned into a bit of a… a fight. And then Flynn kissed you and you just—I think you were still yelling into his mouth at first.” Lucy laughed softly. “And then you just… melted. And we promised you that we could go as slow or as fast as you wanted, that we could keep it from the others if you wanted—that we were in this for the long haul with you.”

Lucy reached up, her fingers tracing the outline of Wyatt’s jaw. “You were so very sweet once we got you in our bed. Did whatever we asked, begged us to touch you…”

Wyatt could feel heat sliding through him with the images that supplied, and he had to fight not to squirm as pressure built low in his stomach, between his legs. Two sets of hands on him, Lucy’s sweet voice telling him _ask for what you want_ , Flynn’s mouth on his throat…

He forced himself to meet Lucy’s gaze. “What if after all this I don’t fall in love with you two?”

“Then that’s your choice and you can leave. But what sort of life do you have now, Wyatt Logan?” Her fingers moved down to his chest now, and he definitely couldn’t move or he’d be revealing just how, ah, compromised he was. “Issues you can’t face or talk about, the ghost of a woman following you, no friends, no family, no purpose. Why not take a chance?”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m being seduced,” Wyatt noted.

“Oh, good, I’d hate for you to think I was just making idle conversation.” Lucy retracted her hand, tilting her head and smiling at him. “The offer we made then still stands. For us, in our timeline, we’ve been married for six months. We love you. And I know that you’re not the same person. Flynn knows that too. But we saw the person you became and we know that you can be that happy again and I truly believe that if the other version of you had a say, he’d ask us to try and make you happy, the way we did for him.”

She got up onto her knees and braced her hands on his shoulders, kissing his forehead. The combination of blatant seduction and honest, sweet gestures was making Wyatt’s head spin. “I’ll leave you to Flynn now.”

“Wait—what—”

Lucy stood up and went over to Rufus. “You deserve a break,” she told him. “Walk with me, let’s check the rabbit traps.”

“You want me to check and see if we managed to murder any fluffy bunnies with our traps.”

“It’s dinner, Rufus, c’mon.”

Flynn walked over to where Wyatt sat, frantically thinking about football stats so that he could shift around without drawing attention to anything embarrassing.

“She’s bold,” Flynn noted, poking the fire.

“Ah…” Wyatt wasn’t sure how to answer that.

Flynn glanced over at him, smirking slightly, in a fond sort of way. Then he looked back at the fire. “She didn’t used to be so confident. You helped with that. I like to think I did too, or at least she tells me I did.”

“Look, the person that I was… that you knew… I know you said that I was a mess and got better.” Wyatt swallowed. He wanted to be honest with these people. With Lucy and Flynn. “But do you really want to go through that again? I’m a mess now, man, I mean—you saw my apartment. I got kicked out of Delta because I couldn’t fucking handle what happened to Jess. I was signing myself up for suicide missions. I’ve been drunk more than I’ve been sober the last six months. Are you sure you want to hitch yourself to that kind of fuck up?”

“Honestly,” Flynn sat down, glaring at the fire when it hissed and spat a little, “I thought you’d still be denying that you’re bi.”

“You’re my husband from another timeline who stuck me in a time travel machine and plopped me in the middle of nowhere and Rufus doesn’t seem all that judgmental so I figured I had bigger problems to worry about.”

Flynn laughed, like it was startled out of him, flashing a grin at Wyatt. Wyatt’s stomach flipped. “That,” Flynn said, once he’d gotten his breath back. “That’s why we’re sure.”

He leaned in like it was automatic, like he couldn’t stop himself, and Wyatt knew what was coming and knew if there was a moment to back away this was it but he couldn’t move, frozen to the spot, and he didn’t want to move, and then Flynn’s mouth was on his and he couldn’t even think anymore.

Flynn kissed him softly but confidently, without hesitation, like he knew just how to do it, and Wyatt could feel warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the fire. Flynn’s hand came up to press against Wyatt’s jaw and cheek, molding against it like that’s what they’d been born for, to fit into each other like this, steadying Wyatt and keeping him from falling out of orbit.

He inhaled sharply, his chest shaking, as Flynn pulled away. Holy shit.

“We’ll take the mess,” Flynn whispered, his voice rough and graveled, “because we get this, too. We have faith in you.”

Nobody had had faith in Wyatt in… fuck, he couldn’t remember when. Jess used to have faith in him, because she was too good for his sorry ass, but Jess was dead and gone. There hadn’t been anyone before her, which was probably why he’d clung so goddamn fiercely to her, and there hadn’t been anyone since.

Until now, with Lucy’s soft, sure touches and her teasing looks, and Flynn with his swift, gentle kisses and his whispered promises.

Would it really be such a bad thing, to go back with them? To fight the good fight with two people like this? Rufus was a great guy, funny and smart, easy to get along with. Dave would be there, and Wyatt had always liked Dave. Maybe—maybe he should give his a chance. What did he have to lose?

“I won’t have any idea what I’m doing,” Wyatt confessed, finding his voice was a whisper to match Flynn’s. “I’m going to mess up.”

“We’re not looking for perfect,” Flynn replied. “We’re looking for you.”

This time Wyatt was the one who moved in, sealing their mouths together, because who just _said_ shit like that, and meant it, who just fucking did that? Flynn did, apparently, and Lucy did, apparently, and Wyatt wanted so badly to be worthy of them, he’d work so hard to be worthy of them, he would, he’d do whatever they needed.

Flynn laughed a little into his mouth and then kissed him back, firm and sure, and Wyatt just went along for the ride, feeling oddly soft and vulnerable and open and for once, not scared of it.

These two already knew all his demons, all his dark places, all the jagged edges and the pitfalls. He didn’t have to hide from them or posture or protect himself. They knew. And they loved him anyway.

Wyatt heard the sound of tramping feet and jerked away, instinct taking over. He didn’t want to be rude—Rufus was already putting up with Lucy and Flynn blatantly wooing Wyatt in front of him, the poor guy didn’t need to see Wyatt making out with Flynn on top of all that.

Their flushed faces must have given them away, however, because as Lucy and Rufus emerged from the trees Lucy took one look at them and got the most pleased, starry-eyed smile on her face. “Will you come back with us, then?” she asked, walking over and sitting down on Wyatt’s other side, her hand moving to rest on his chest again.

Wyatt nodded. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing but I want to help, and I want… the way you two talk about me, I’d like that.”

Lucy leaned in and Wyatt braced himself, only to have her duck her head down at the last moment, kissing his neck instead.

Wyatt shuddered. Hoo God.

Lucy kissed the bolt of his jaw, then the corner of his mouth. “Trust me,” she whispered, “you won’t regret it.”

In the bedroom department, he was damn sure he wouldn’t.

“He’s going to come back with us?” Rufus asked, pointedly looking up at the sky with a look of pained patience on his face.

Flynn wrapped his hand around the back of Wyatt’s neck and kissed him on the temple, the way Wyatt had seen him do with Lucy. “Yes.”

“Great.” Rufus pulled something out of his pocket. “I can put this damn thing back in then.”

Wyatt felt his jaw falling open. “You—the machine’s been fixed this whole time?”

“On the first day,” Rufus replied. “But I figured, why waste an opportunity?”

He grinned at them and then hauled himself into the Lifeboat to put the piece in place.

“You’ll figure this out quickly,” Flynn said, his voice low and amused, “but we don’t deserve Rufus.”

“Can’t wait to get you into a proper bed,” Lucy whispered, brushing her lips over Wyatt’s cheek. “Mmm, we get to teach you all the fun things all over again.”

“Like what?” Wyatt asked, feeling bold.

Flynn’s other hand moved to Wyatt’s stomach and he felt himself being shoved gently but firmly onto the ground, and before he could react Flynn was kissing him again, this time hot and possessive, his hand sliding farther down between Wyatt’s legs and squeezing. Wyatt bucked up instinctively, and he would’ve moaned but that was a little hard to do when Flynn’s tongue was in his mouth. There was nothing he could do except go pliant and follow Flynn’s lead, and the rush that gave him was like a goddamn drug.

“Like that,” Flynn said, pulling away and nipping at Wyatt’s bottom lip.

“I leave you three alone for ten goddamn seconds!” Rufus yelled from the Lifeboat. “Keep it in your pants until we get you to a private room at least, fucking hell…”

“We’re coming!” Lucy called, standing up and stomping out the fire. “Come on, boys. Denise will pitch a fit when we get back.”

“Denise?” Wyatt asked, letting Flynn haul him to his feet.

Flynn dusted the dirt off Wyatt’s back. “You’ve got a lot to catch up on, but don’t worry, you’re a fast learner.”

Lucy took his hand and tugged him towards the Lifeboat, Flynn following behind. Wyatt had no fucking clue what was coming next, but for once, he wasn’t going to waste a good thing when it was right in front of him.

Especially not two good things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...do the people want me to do a second chapter of smut?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut chapter, per everyone's request. Mwahaha. This part turned out softer than I expected as well, what the heck.

To say Denise wasn’t pleased when they got back was… a bit of an understatement.

Rufus got them back into the present right on time so nothing was amiss—the team hadn’t been freaking out over missing them for a week—but Denise’s face when Wyatt emerged from the Lifeboat was one for the ages.

Lucy stubbornly holding onto Wyatt’s arm like he was a puppy she’d brought home probably didn’t help matters much.

“Flynn.” Denise’s arms were folded, her voice sharp. “Lucy. With me.”

“How come I’m not in trouble?” Rufus asked.

“Excellent question,” Flynn said.

“Do not push it.”

Lucy tightened her grip on Wyatt, like Denise was going to physically rip him from her. Flynn stepped in between, partially to reassure Lucy that no, he wouldn’t let anything happen. “Emma was there.”

That gave Denise pause. “Emma?”

“She was on the jump with us,” Flynn explained, forcing himself to keep his tone neutral. As much as he wanted to snarl and insist that the first person who touched Wyatt was dead meat, he knew it wouldn’t get him anywhere. One of them had to be the calm one here.

And after what had happened with Jess…

No. No, Wyatt wasn’t Rittenhouse, this was different, and even if he was—Jess had been raised by Rittenhouse, practically brainwashed, and she’d redeemed herself. So would Wyatt. And the way Wyatt had looked at him in front of the fire, so broken and soft and yearning… that wasn’t an act. Nobody could fake that.

“Emma went through time,” he continued, “and that meant she remembered Wyatt just like we do. She knows that we love him, she knows what he means to us. So she went after him to get him, use him as a hostage.”

If Emma had Wyatt or Lucy in her grasp… Flynn would’ve done just about anything. And Emma knew that.

“We got Wyatt out, so here we are,” Flynn concluded.

“Here you are,” Denise repeated.

“He’s another soldier,” Dave piped up. “We could use that, we’re being run ragged as it is. And I can vouch for him, Wyatt always had my back in Delta.”

Denise looked a little unsure.

“Honestly, Christopher,” Mason said, sipping tea over in the dining area. “He’s their husband and he’s not a Rittenhouse spy, let them keep him. Emma’s already made him a target so he’s clearly not safe out there. He’ll be useful to us, and God knows it’s not like the rest of us can just go home and see our spouses whenever we please.”

Denise looked over at Wyatt. “Do you even want to be here?”

Flynn couldn’t help the nervousness that twisted in his gut like cold snakes. He trusted that Wyatt had meant it when he’d said he wanted to go with them but—things changed. Wyatt could be second guessing his decision.

Wyatt gripped Lucy’s hand and took a small step forward, putting himself right in between Lucy and Flynn. “Yes. I want to be here, with them. I want to help you guys. I’ve got shit-all going for me out there so.”

Denise looked at him for a long moment. Flynn could see Wyatt shoving his shoulders back, getting into that cocky, defiant attitude that he used when he was uncomfortable and feeling vulnerable and trying not to show it.

He reached out instinctively, only realizing once he’d taken Wyatt’s hand that Wyatt might not appreciate it—but Wyatt gripped back hard, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

Denise sighed, unfolding her arms. “Very well. I’ll have to go through official channels in Homeland and get you assigned on this mission, so I’ll be bringing in some paperwork for you to sign.”

“We’re hiding out in a bunker and there’s still paperwork?” Rufus asked, sounding hugely disgruntled.

Lucy, clearly deciding that she was done with this conversation and that there was no reason for her to stick around now that it was settled Wyatt was staying, started walking towards the bedroom, dragging Wyatt with her.

Flynn sarcastically saluted. “We’ll see you all later.”

They had to get their husband settled back in their bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Lucy felt herself collapsing the moment Flynn closed the bedroom door behind them, her eyes growing warm and wet and her vision blurring. She’d kept it in that whole week, kept her fears and pain inside as she focused on drawing Wyatt back to them, but now… now…

She turned around and hugged him fiercely, causing Wyatt to let out a confused grunt, burying her face in his neck.

She’d only had to be without him for a few days but she’d missed him, she’d missed him so much, and she was still so scared that this Wyatt wouldn’t end up wanting her, that he’d reject her, that he’d want to leave, but God right now he was here and he was hugging her back and tentatively kissing her hair and she loved him, she loved him so goddamn much.

“I guess I really gave you two a fright, huh?” Wyatt asked. He was directing the question at Flynn.

She felt Flynn wrap an arm around Wyatt’s back, pulling the two of them into his chest. “Yes,” he said simply, resting his forehead against Wyatt’s.

Lucy tightened her grip, holding on for a very, very long time.

 

* * *

 

For all of the, uh, promises that the two of them had made, Wyatt expected Lucy and Flynn to try and jump him first thing.

Instead, they were very thoughtful and, well, slow about it.

Wyatt had been sleeping alone for so long he almost didn’t know what to do with himself, sleeping with two people who were more than happy to cuddle. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well, finally feeling safe in his bed.

The first few days, they tended to put him in the middle, Lucy curled up in his arms and her hair in his nose, smelling of strawberries, with Flynn at his back, one heavy warm arm draped over Wyatt’s waist, his hand pressed against Wyatt’s chest, as if Wyatt wasn’t allowed to get any silly ideas of moving away in the night.

When he woke up the first morning, feeling warm and comforted, two sets of arms around him, legs all tangled… he’d nearly burst into tears. He hadn’t felt so goddamn loved in years.

But as far as sex went—they were going slowly, and Wyatt wanted more, but he also wanted to follow their lead. He wanted to please them and do as they asked. He was fumbling in the dark, here, and he needed them to guide him, but he also wanted to just up and die because the sexual tension was killing him.

Flynn made him coffee in the mornings and would sit behind him and kiss him on the back of the neck absentmindedly when they all settled around the table for strategy sessions. Lucy would drape her legs over his lap on the couch and would hook her finger in his belt loop to lead him around the bunker. They were touching him just on the side of sexual—the kind of touches you didn’t give someone unless you were sleeping with them—but they weren’t going so far as to do anything more with him. Stolen kisses, the briefest of touches along his chest, under his shirt, that was all and he wanted so, so much more.

It was driving him insane.

He was just going to have to ask them, wasn’t he?

That night, Wyatt gingerly sat on the bed while Flynn searched around in the closet for some shirt or other and Lucy was undoing her braid. “Um… can I ask a question?”

“Hmm?” Lucy shook her hair out. “What’s up?”

“Why haven’t we, um, why haven’t we had se—why haven’t we slept together?”

“You can say sex,” Flynn noted with amusement, still half-buried in the closet.

“We didn’t want to rush you,” Lucy replied. She sat down on the bed next to him. “We thought we’d go slow. Ease you into it.”

“It’s been a couple of weeks.”

“Trust me,” Flynn said, emerging with the shirt in his hand and straightening up to his full height. “We’re well aware of how long it’s been.”

Wyatt swallowed as he saw dark hunger sparking in Flynn’s gaze and he felt like a rabbit caught in a trap in the best way.

Lucy leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. Her fingertips gently brushed his neck, stroking, and Wyatt really hadn’t thought he had a thing for his throat but holy shit, turned out that he really, really did. “You had a hard time, last go round… coming to terms and everything. We didn’t—everything is already—you’re adjusting to everything else already and so we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

“You just wanted me to be hugely frustrated for days because you were touching me all the time?”

“Well…” Lucy leaned in, a purr entering her voice. “Maybe.”

She paused, her mouth barely an inch from his. Wyatt almost whined in frustration. “What do you want? You want me to beg?”

The look on Lucy’s face was predatory and priceless. “Ooh, maybe.”

Wyatt swallowed. Okay. Okay, he could do that. “Please?”

Lucy’s mouth was on his in an instant.

Wyatt inhaled sharply through his nose as Lucy slid her tongue into his mouth, coaxing him into a deeper kiss, her hands at his chest pushing him back down onto the bed. He dimly heard Flynn crossing the room and making sure the door was locked, but all he could really focus on was Lucy settling her weight on him, her hands bracing on either side of his head, her mouth working his with steady, repeated kissing that had him arching up into her, craving more.

The bed dipped as Flynn crawled onto it. Lucy pulled away, leaving Wyatt panting, hard, aching, staring up at her with blurred vision. “Garcia,” she said lightly, her hand pressing into Wyatt’s chest to keep him down—as if he was going anywhere. “Why don’t we give him a little show first?”

“Because you really are trying to kill me?” Wyatt croaked.

“Mmm, because I suspect that we’ll have to teach you patience all over again,” Lucy replied, swinging her leg off him and turning to settle herself against the pillows. “But c’mere, if you’re good you can touch me while Garcia takes care of me.”

Flynn clearly knew what that meant, smirking up at Lucy and sliding his hands up her leg, kissing her ankle. Lucy pet through Wyatt’s hair as she spread her legs, letting Flynn work her jeans off and then return to his slow exploration up her leg, his mouth musing along all the dips and angles.

Lucy pressed Wyatt down, and he followed her lead, kissing down to the edge of her shirt, helping her work it off and then moving down lower, her hand at the back of his head guiding him. It had been… well, a while since he’d last hooked up with someone, and he felt a little nervous as he took Lucy’s hint and sucked at her breast, teasing it with his teeth just a little. He wanted to do good, to be good at this, and he was honestly worried he’d screw it up.

“A little rougher,” Lucy instructed. Wyatt did as he was told, using his teeth a bit more, and she sighed happily, arching up into his mouth. “Good boy.”

A hot shiver of pleasure ran through him at that. Oh, okay, so—that was something he liked. Okay then.

Flynn was sucking a bruise into Lucy’s inner thigh, his muscles bunching up in his arms and shoulders as he braced himself, and dear God that was an image. Now that Wyatt was letting himself look, really look, he found that he was seriously into men who looked like they could throw him against a wall.

Namely, Flynn.

Flynn glanced up as he moved his mouth towards Lucy’s center, winked at Wyatt as if he could read his thoughts, and then set about delicately lapping at Lucy.

She arched up, her hand tightening in Wyatt’s hair, and he had to pause as all the breath punched out of him and he watched Flynn expertly, and enthusiastically, work her until Lucy was quivering, holding onto Wyatt as much for an anchor as anything else.

He didn’t know whether to watch Lucy’s face, the slack, dazed look of ecstasy building there, or Flynn as he methodically took her apart. Wyatt felt frozen, wanting, but unable to do anything about it, the heat inside him just slowly ratcheting up until it felt like his blood was boiling.

Flynn had to get his hands on Lucy’s thighs to keep her from bucking up, and Wyatt couldn’t help but imagine Flynn holding him down that way, Flynn’s mouth on him like that, or the other way around, being the one Lucy ordered to get between her legs—

Flynn pulled away just enough to plant some kisses along Lucy’s stomach. “Hold her wrists down,” he instructed, his voice a bit hoarse. “She likes that.”

“Don’t make me regret this,” Lucy warned as Wyatt did what he was told. He was a little hesitant at first, but then Lucy tried to squirm a little and couldn’t and moaned, shuddering, and he realized—she really did like it. Holy shit.

Flynn went back to work, sealing his mouth over her, and Wyatt thought he was going to lose his mind with this, hard and aching between his legs and getting an eyeful of the hottest goddamn thing he’d ever seen.

He tightened his grip on Lucy’s wrists a little as she jolted, then loosened them when a small, happy sigh escaped her as she went boneless and sank down into the mattress.

Flynn sat back on his knees, wiping his mouth and taking off his shirt, a satisfied grin on his face. Lucy looked blissed-out, her eyelids heavy, a lazy smile curling up the corners of her mouth.

“Thank you darling,” she told Flynn, magnanimous, like a queen. Then she tugged at Wyatt until he had to swing a leg over her and straddle her to keep from falling over. “And now you.”

She helped him pull his shirt up over his head, then slid her hands down his chest. Jesus Christ, this was really happening, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen was actually touching him and looking at him like she was going to devour him whole.

Lucy’s hands moved down farther, toying with the waistband of his jeans. “So… what do you want to do next?” she asked.

Wyatt felt another pair of hands sliding up his sides, his back, and he instinctively leaned back into it, meeting hard muscle, breathing in Flynn’s dark, spicy scent, and nearly lost his mind when he felt the pleased rumble in Flynn’s chest.

“I—I don’t know,” he admitted. He wanted so much, he wanted everything, images racing through his mind, none of them quite defined but all of them making him pant with need.

“How about,” Flynn rumbled, kissing the shell of Wyatt’s ear, “you and me?”

Wyatt would’ve fallen over if Flynn hadn’t been basically propping him up by that point. Um, yes? Yes please, with a cherry on top?

Not that he didn’t want Lucy, too, but—and speaking of Lucy, she was undoing his jeans now, taking his cock out—

Wyatt choked on air as Lucy pushed herself up into sitting and lapped at his cock with her tongue. He jerked, grabbing onto Flynn’s arms, his stomach melting as Lucy continued to toy with him with her mouth, like she was genuinely new to this and curiously exploring this possibility.

It occurred to him that Lucy Preston, whatever else she might also be, was a goddamn minx.

This suspicion was confirmed when Lucy looked up at him through her lashes as she stopped teasing him and slowly sank her mouth down onto him, her tongue flicking out to swirl around the head before drawing up and down, taking her time.

Flynn kissed down his neck. “Wyatt? What do you want?”

Oh, shit, he hadn’t actually said anything out loud. “You and me,” he managed, his voice rough.

“Mm, how do we ask for that?”

Jesus Christ. “Please, please can we do that?”

“One thing you’ve always been,” Flynn noted, taking Wyatt’s chin in his hand to turn his head to face him, “is a fast learner.”

He kissed him, quick and messy, and Wyatt nearly fell again as Flynn then pulled away, leaving him to kneel under his own power. His hand dove into Lucy’s hair to help balance, tugging slightly, and she gave an encouraging little moan. He tugged again, a bit harder, and Lucy shuddered.

It took him a minute to recognize the slick sounds he was hearing and realize what Flynn was doing—and then his cock jerked and he had to quickly squeeze the base before he came in Lucy’s mouth because holy shit he’d thought—he’d thought Flynn was going to fuck _him_ —holy _fuck_ —

Lucy pulled off and Wyatt was turned, guided by Flynn, and let out a low, helpless whine. He wanted this so badly, so very badly he almost couldn’t see straight anymore, his vision blurred and tilted sideways. Flynn kissed him again, slow, coaxing, and then somehow he was on his back on the bed and all of Flynn’s warm weight was bearing him down and he was sliding in and oh fuck, oh fuck, he was not going to last long.

Flynn pushed Wyatt’s hair back from his face, grinning down at him. “You thought it was going to be the other way around, didn’t you?” he asked, playfully shifting a little.

Wyatt nearly went fucking cross-eyed. It had been a while, all right, and Flynn was tight and hot around him and the feeling of his solid weight on top of him was like a fucking drug, doping him up, making him feel light and heavy at the same time and in the best way. “Yeah,” he managed to get out.

“Next time,” Flynn promised, sounding rather smug, the bastard. “We’ll work you up to it.”

…that was honestly fair, Wyatt was so close to blowing it he could taste it in the back of his throat.

Lucy kissed him, cupping his cheek as Flynn started to move, and Wyatt whimpered desperately into her mouth. It felt so good, he wasn’t going to last, but he didn’t want to be that asshole that came after ten seconds.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart,” Lucy assured him. “It’s okay, you can let go whenever you want. Just give in, we want to see you.”

She pulled back with a fond caress to his cheek, and then she was wrapping her hand around Flynn’s cock and stroking him, whispering in his ear. Flynn’s eyelids fluttered as he shifted and then he was biting back a groan and Wyatt thrust up in that same angle, grinning dazedly up at him as Flynn shuddered in response. He didn’t know which was hotter, actually feeling this or watching Flynn and Lucy, and he was just doing his damn best to keep holding on for the ride, fucking up into Flynn and watching him fall apart, trying to help him fall apart as Lucy kissed him all over and touched him all over and the two of them just made the hottest picture—

Lucy twisted her wrist and bit down on Flynn’s shoulder and Flynn gave a choked-off groan and came all over Wyatt’s chest, and oh holy fuck that was the hottest thing he’d ever—there was roaring in his ears and he couldn’t even—his fingertips were buzzing and he couldn’t be coordinated anymore he was just basically writhing helplessly—

It was his turn to slump back onto the bed as he came, unable to even feel his goddamn toes for a minute, panting harshly as his vision blurred. Holy. Goddamn. Fuck.

A moment or two later Flynn slid off him and half-fell, half-crawled to the side. Lucy laughed softly and got off the bed, returning a moment later with a box of tissues to help clean up.

“Why the fuck did you wait so long for us to do that?” Wyatt croaked. He tried to move but his limbs still felt a little uncoordinated.

“We wanted to make sure you really wanted it,” Lucy replied, reiterating her previous point. She set the box aside, threw the used tissues in the trash, and then crawled back onto the bed with them.

“Shower and then midnight snack?” Flynn suggested.

Lucy hummed her approval and Wyatt found himself curling into Flynn’s side automatically, not even thinking about it, his hand reaching out to find Lucy and draw her in.

The soft look the two of them exchanged, and then bestowed on him, felt like some kind of benediction.

To be perfectly, selfishly honest, he didn’t care so much about the time travel. That wasn’t why he was here. Yes, he was a soldier, and he liked having a purpose, a mission, a commanding officer. He liked having all of that again, to have Dave and Flynn to fight alongside, to have Denise to report to. And he supposed it would be fun to meet one of his heroes, like say, Ian Fleming or Wendell Scott.

But that wasn’t why he’d come and that wasn’t really why he was staying. Saving the world was important but he wasn’t doing it for the ideology, he was doing it for these two. For the way he felt warm and loved and safe, the way they eased him into sex and teased him and made sure he really did want it, the way they cuddled up to him now and planned to shower with him and sneak out to have a snack and looked at him like he was something infinitely precious to them.

That was why he was here. And why he was staying.

Maybe Lucy and Flynn had doubted he’d fall for them again and to be fair, he’d spent the first day wondering what the fuck they were doing and who they were. But when two people came up to you and told you they loved you just as you were and they were willing to do the work and to wait and take it as slow as you wanted… two people who looked at him like this, who touched him and cared for him like this…

Really, they should’ve known he’d do anything to stay by their sides.


End file.
